


Lay Me Low

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-World War I, Protective Siblings, Sibling Incest, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3207728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are few constants in this life, but for the Shelbys, family is one of them. As brothers, partners in business and lovers - Arthur and Thomas know each other better than anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Me Low

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt.

It has always been there between them, burning steadily over the years. Something Arthur couldn’t acknowledge and something Tommy wouldn’t. What is the point? It exists. It's nobody’s business but their own. This wouldn’t be considered acceptable between two men, let alone two brothers.

You tell a man you’re fucking your brother, and he looks at you askance, like he can’t imagine why you’d ever do such a thing. Tommy can’t tell anyone because it’s that sort of secret, close to the heart and soft to the skin.

*  *  *

They’re drunk behind the pub. They’ve had a good night and their horse has won and Tommy kisses him without really thinking about it, and this time Arthur kisses back. It’s wet and sloppy at first. Arthur slows the pace, letting Tommy takes his time, find his rhythm.

*  *  *

Arthur remembers the time he first took his brother out drinking. He spends the evening watching the way Tommy’s lips nurse the bottle. Each swallow makes him a little bit thirstier. How much he wants to kiss those lips, test their softness against his own.

He does, later that very night. Tommy kisses him back like he’s been waiting for the same thing.

 *  *  *

Tommy can’t tell the things Arthur does to him – how it is between them. Matter-of-fact, simply the way things are. Over the years, through the war, through business, through blood and grief and death – they are still side by side, no matter what.

“Tommy,” Arthur’s fingers clasp his cheeks for a moment and Tommy lets himself be still in his brother’s grasp.

 *  *  *

It was Arthur who bought him his first suit. No, it was Aunt Polly who took him for the fitting. But it was Arthur who paid the money. He has Tommy turn in front of him, showing off the new material.

“Very nice.”

“Does it make me look like a gentleman?” Tommy touches the blue tie, looking at his reflection in the glass. He thinks it does well enough. There’s a change coming. Tommy can feel it in the wind.

“You’ll pass.” Arthur says curtly.

Tommy tilts his head and smiles at him.

Arthur reaches for his whiskey. Tommy goes to stand in front of him. He takes the glass from Arthur’s hand and brings it to his own lips.

“Tell me how I look.”

“Like a fucking star.” Arthur mutters. He watches Tommy sip the whiskey and then leans into him, resting his forehead against his brother’s waistcoat. Tommy strokes his fingers over Arthur’s hair.

*  *  *

They rarely talk about the war. Arthur has his own demons left of it. They all do. Not a man came back who didn’t carry the weight of it with him. But Tommy is ready to put it behind him. He wants elsewhere to be real, the future to be brighter.

Arthur’s nights pass in a blur of drinking and flesh, and the bliss of ecstasy. It’s the daytime hours he struggles with. The sun reminds him every day is another endless stretch of hours. His hands aren’t as steady as they used to be and one day Tommy does a little more in the business, and then another and then another until he has the run of it.

*  *  *

Every time he has to talk his brother through another day Tommy finds his heart wedged tight in his throat. He’s never so close to slipping back except in those moments. He’s harsh to Arthur then because kindness won’t keep his brother at his side.

Some days he thinks about what if he didn’t. What if he let Arthur go the way he seems to want to. Those days feel a little darker, like a shadow Tommy can’t shake is clawing at his back.

 *  *  *

But there comes a long night where Arthur’s too far gone and Tommy falls back on kindness because in the end he will do anything to keep Arthur, even tell him that he loves him.

“Don’t you dare.” Tommy’s hands play over Arthur’s sallow cheeks and throat, testing his pulse. “Don’t you dare leave me.” He can’t imagine a world without his older brother, no matter how many times he’s nearly lost him.

Arthur’s eyes flutter. “I never would.”

Tommy chokes back a laugh. “I’ll hold you to that.” He rubs his fingertips over Arthur’s forehead. “I’ll get you some water.”

“I’d rather have whiskey.” Arthur’s eyes close again.

“Tomorrow.” Tommy tells him.

He pours a fresh glass of water and stands for the moment, watching the water ripple in the pitcher.

When he comes back Arthur is sleeping peacefully. Tommy leaves the water beside him and touches his forehead again. He kisses Arthur quickly there on the temple and sneaks out for a cigarette.

Tommy stands on the back stoop, watching the smoke from the next house over fade away over the row of quiet houses. He waits until the ash is cold on his cigarette stub and then he leaves it and goes back inside.

Arthur’s still sleeping, hair limp over his face. Tommy hesitates, and then he undresses. It’s cold. He doesn’t want to be alone. He strips down to his underclothes and crawls into bed beside his older brother. Arthur mumbles something in his sleep and settles down again. This is where Tommy likes to sleep. This is where he finds peace.

 *  *  *

Tommy’s still asleep when Arthur wakes first in the morning. It’s early. Arthur puts the kettle on. He makes Tommy a mug of tea like he did when they were little, adding milk and sugar till it’s nearly slopping over the rim.

He sets it on the bedside table, and steps back. Tommy only looks young when he’s asleep. Arthur grinds his palm against his eye, rubbing the sleep from it. He can’t remember the last time Tommy crept into bed with him. He doesn’t let himself do it much these days.

 He thinks about getting dressed, and instead slips back under the covers. Tommy settles naturally into the crook of his arm without opening his eyes. Arthur lets himself drift, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb along Tommy’s back.

*  *  *

Once there were two brothers, and they were closer than a woven blanket. No matter how the blanket frayed over the years, the threads still clung together.


End file.
